


Look to Tomorrow

by twitch



Series: kylux cantina prompts [8]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crying, Force Sensitivity, Forced Sex, Forces of non-Nature, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Original Character(s), Pain, Prompt Fic, Rape/Non-con Elements, Religious Content, Rituals, Saving the World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 19:07:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10860210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twitch/pseuds/twitch
Summary: It was meant to be a ritual requiring the sacrifice of two virgins. They just never knew a fine print existed.The virgins are required to give up their virginity.





	Look to Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> It happened again. I wound up writing my own prompt from the kylux cantina over at tumblr. The theme of the week was ritual and the prompt is as described in the summary.
> 
> Big thank you to kyluxtrashcompactor for the beta.

He watched his calves, bare in the flickering light. Hung limp though his toes wiggled every so often, enjoying the ability while they could. His knees poked out from under the thin slip of white fabric, not detailed enough to be lace but the transparency suggested other fine fabrics. Why they decided he’d wear something so extravagant on the last of his days seemed utterly ridiculous. 

Behind him the attendant pulled the top half of his gown back over his shoulders, the cloth she’d been using to clean his back placed aside. He hadn’t been instructed to not look at her, at any of the men and women who worked on their various tasks, but aside from murmured conversation amongst themselves, no one addressed him or the man sitting beside him.

Ben had glanced over once, watched the slim body washed with similar reverent and methodical touches. Just as he had been prepared, Armitage’s attendant started at his feet, worked up his legs to his knees. She’d then came around, finished by washing his upper body and arms. 

Now Ben watched him from the corner of his eye, watching as his robe was righted back into place, small button fastened again at the top. Their bodies as clean as their essence.

Ben frowned while the other man pressed fists into his thighs.

A rumble sounded overhead. It may have been the altar being pulled into position. He hoped it was thunder. It had been raining when he arrived that morning, his parents walking on either side of him. They didn’t enter with smiles on their faces, although they tried to be cordial to the Priest when he greeted them. The gravity of the situation prevented any levity.

Had the deluge reached as far inland that the thunder was heralding its arrival?

Or was this a reminder of who demanded compensation? Not nature, dire as that beast could be. This was the entity that demanded the sacrifice, to appease its temper to cease the ravages of the planet.

Theirs was a peaceful home. Three separate kingdoms ruled over their respective land masses, each distinct with topography, fauna and flora. The riches of each kingdom had their own appeal, traded within kingdoms and beyond in a long-arranged trade agreement. The city state protected the towns and villages in each kingdom. Civil war once had its time and place but it had been over a hundred years since any sign of strife had threatened any of the kingdoms. They lived in peace amongst each other, kingdom to kingdom. Any outside threat was addressed by each of the ruling families of the kingdom. Their presence in the Republic’s Senate was held by a single representative who brought forward any concern each kingdom or the planet as a whole wanted to bring to the fore. 

This force was not man-made nor nature as they knew it, regardless where one lived. The monsoon that took out the whole northern coast of the Nameelan kingdom never should’ve happened. The shape of the land and the climate never accounted for such weather systems. It was a ghastly event, destroying too many houses and businesses and the people who survived were forced to flee inland. 

Then there were firestorms on another continent, turning whole forests into cinders within an hour.

Nature could be foreboding but something shivered in the air, a peculiar sensation of goosebumps over skin as though someone was watching. Except it wasn’t a sense of watching certain individuals but a looming gaze staring down at the whole planet.

That’s when the premonitions began. Only a handful of men and women claimed to receive these dream-like messages. All were called foolish. Laughed at to their faces.

Until one day, in the court of a kingdom yet to be blemished by unnatural attacks, business ground to a halt when something coiled through the corridors and halls into the receiving room. Tendrils that permeated through doors and windows accumulated into a dense cloud of charcoal, vibrating and backlit with streaks of iron when the voice emanated from within.

_You laugh in my face and you expect me not to scorn?_

_I do not take your impudence lightly._

_I have allowed you to live in peace under My reign but these slights can not go unpunished._

_I will destroy all your kingdoms, your planet, unless you do as I command._

And though it spoke from the court of one kingdom the voice reverberated. Those cursed men and women, made mock of across the world, spoke loud and clear for all to hear, eyes and mouths filled with smoke before falling unconscious to everyone else’s panic.

It came down to this. Each ruling family would give up a child. It demanded sacrifice by way of virgin life. They would be brought to the Nameelan capital where a ceremony would be held by the Priest and his fellow worshippers. 

Survival and peace of the world for two lives. No harm in that, was there?

Ben felt otherwise but it was not his place to speak. Nor could Leia or Han. Too many lives had been lost. Their adopted daughter Rey had become the golden child that the kingdom adored, not that Ben didn’t have a place in their hearts. Yet Rey had a suitor. The wedding was to be held in the summer, should things go as planned. Ben didn’t have an engagement nor was he interested in any of the women in court or abroad. The lack of prospects made it a simple decision.

They were led into private chambers where Ben could undress and don a plain white robe. He was in the middle of a tearful embrace when the same man who escorted him in excused himself to bring him to the preparation room. 

When he came down he expected to see the younger daughter of the Hux’s. When a man who looked to be around his age was brought in to sit beside him he startled. He was unrecognisable. Had it not been for the red hair Ben wouldn’t have thought he was a Hux as to his knowledge, the only children that the Hux court had were two females. One with a family of her own, the younger barely more than a child. In some sense it was a relief. Primarily it was confusion.

Incense turned cloying, drenching the air of the room. The oil that was painted over his forehead from temple to temple only lessened the scent a fraction. By the trembling light of braziers and candelabras he watched as the woman stepped over to the other man, thumb smudging the light blue sheen over his skin. The woman who tended to the redhead took the position of the previous woman, spreading a red oil over the redhead’s throat before stepping in front of Ben to do the same.

The Priest stepped into the preparation room. All of the attendants paused in their duties, bowing their heads deferentially before continuing. He approached the raised bench that served as table and seat to Ben and his fellow virgin. “Ben – Armitage. Are you ready for the ceremony?”

The redhead squeezed his lips into a frown. The refused response had Ben shrugging and countering. “Are we? I don’t know what else needs to be done here.”

One corner of Armitage’s mouth loosened into a snarl. “Are we supposed to prepare our death gasps?”

The accent sounded similar enough to be of the Hux family. Ben bit back a snort, diverting his gaze back to his knees to hide the amused glint.

Fortunately the Priest wasn’t offended, seem prepared for it. The attendants didn’t bat an eye, setting down their respective vials. “This wasn’t your choice to make so I understand your anger. That you are here is a sign of your strength and honour. You will not be forgotten for what you are doing for your kingdoms, for our continued safety. This… threat is not to be taken lightly. This is a very real, tragic situation. By our blessing, by my gratitude and everyone else’s – your bravery is our survival. There is no way to measure your lives for ours.”

Were they supposed to profess their pleasure and welcomes? Fury was brief on Armitage’s features, turning quiet and resolute. Ben stilled his shoulders from shrugging again. Eyes flicked up briefly when a man approached the priest, passing him a slim bladed dagger, handle and hilt weighted by riches that looked out of place in the temple.

“It is time,” the Priest said.

Ben had watched the dagger slip between the Priest’s belt and robe, positioned so jewels gleamed in the dim light. There must’ve been a motion of his hands following that indicated the two female attendants to assist him and Armitage to their feet. Side by side, glancing briefly to one another, they began to follow the procession, the Priest in the lead, the man behind him, the two women behind them.

To his left Armitage stumbled, attempting to stop, eyes darting from one set of candles to another, smoked out before his gaze landed on the next lightless stand. The woman behind him placed a hand to his back, guiding him forward.

_Steady._

It may have been the breeze that blew out the candles but Ben thought it was a voice, a whisper that had him flinching, everyone else unhearing and moving forward. Without thinking his hand jerked out, grabbing hold of Armitage’s wrist to stop him.

The attendants behind them walked into their backs, all four catching themselves against each other. Occupied as they were they heard the snick of a belt giving slightly under a sharp blade.

The priest’s hands were loose at his side, unprepared for the dagger snapping free from its shoddy restraints. Rather than falling it swung up, invisible hands and threads arcing it around until the dagger was in front of the Priest, thrusting his chin up and the tip of the blade drawing a thin line of blood from chin to neck, not digging in further than a threatening press to slice downward. 

The smoke that lingered over the unlit candles drifted forward, thickening as they congealed into a larger mass, dark and pitching louder like thunder. 

_I’m afraid there has been a miscommunication._

Everyone stopped what they were doing, attention riveted by the sight and sound.

_You have ten minutes to rectify the situation otherwise everyone here will face destruction. By nightfall, all will have perished._

The dagger tumbled to the ground, blood drops scattered around it.

Voices rang in hushed but hurried confusion, silenced by the Priest raising his hand. He didn’t look concerned despite the limited time frame, motioning for a man and woman who had previously been arranging scrolls. “According to the transcriptions, what were our instructions?”

“It’s what we’ve been following since we received word ourselves. Everyone else who witnessed the exchanges vouch for it.” The man pulled open one of two scrolls he held, angling it towards the woman who continued speaking. “You laugh in my face and you expect me not to scorn? I do not take your impudence lightly. I have allowed you to live in peace under My reign but these slights can not go unpunished. I will destroy all your kingdoms, your planet, unless you do as I command. – Then, subsequently – I demand a virgin sacrifice from the ruling families from Kanis and Eium brought to the High Temple of Nameelan. In two weeks at midday the sacrifice will take place.”

“We’ve done as we were instructed,” the man who had been trailing the Priest pointed out. “We have the altar set up to lay out their bodies, they have been anointed to prepare safe passage to-”

After Armitage’s first retort Ben was surprised to hear him hesitate before speaking again. “Do you not find it curious that the request was for two virgins?”

Ben glanced over to Armitage, surprised that he was addressing the room at large. He would’ve let go of his arm to let him continue talking but by the silent nod Armitage gave him he kept his fingers around his wrist, letting Armitage swallow tightly before raising their hands to the Priest and the man.

“Sacrifice is normally interpreted to give up one’s life and yet we’ve been told that you – we’ve made a mistake.” Armitage’s outstretched palm folded in on itself to almost make a fist. “If two virgins are not meant to give up their lives, what else is there for them to give up?”

Armitage tightened his jaw, attempting to keep his words confident, but the tremor Ben felt had nothing to do with the man he was holding but the breath he himself had sucked in.

“Our virginity,” he exhaled.

The two candelabras came back to life, a hearty glow that did nothing to ease the chill of his bones, braziers ineffective.

Ben only heard a frantic exclamation that they had five minutes until they had to be up in the ceremonial room. However long that left him and Armitage in relative seclusion he didn’t know. “Are you sure of this?” he asked, stepping towards him so there was no room to not brush against him.

“I don’t want to be but…”

If the candelabras relighting themselves wasn’t omen enough that he and Armitage were right than Ben didn’t know what would be. “I guess it’s better than giving up our lives,” he commented.

Armitage snorted under his breath. “My father would disagree.”

The opening couldn’t have sated his curiosity more. “You are a Hux then?”

“Brendol Hux is my father.” Pale eyes hardened under Ben’s stare. “A bastard son born by a kitchen maid only becomes worthwhile when he can save the life of his beloved daughter.”

The chill turned to stone in his stomach but whether it resulted from Armitage’s statement or what they needed to do he didn’t spend the time to analyse. “Do you have… any idea how we’re to go about this?” 

“I wouldn’t be here if I did.” Smiling ruefully Armitage shook his head. “I’m a virgin, just like you are.”

“What are we supposed to do?” It was one thing for his tutors to teach human reproductivity alongside politics, history and economics. All the important subjects were taught to him from a young age but the mechanics of sex was conveniently glossed over. Many nights he would overhear knights regaling one another of their exploits, mostly at the expense of the bedded women, but Ben was no wiser on how to go about doing it. 

“Maybe someone here can give us pointers?” Armitage sounded hopeful but it was Ben’s turn to shake his head.

Ben steadied his frown back on him. “They are celibate. No one who’s not a virgin themselves can be a religious member of this Temple.”

His hand was knocked free when Armitage went to cross his arms, shoulders hitching back to straighten back and neck. Standing close together he could feel the tension in his body, knuckles whitening around his elbows. “And everyone is waiting upstairs,” he whispered before sucking his upper lip between his teeth.

Ben couldn’t stop his eyes from widening. Preoccupied by the concept of losing his virginity he forgot about the audience present for the ceremony. His parents would be watching. The words he was preparing to assuage Armitage went silent before they took form. The only instinct that came to him in that second was to raise his hand, stroking the length of Armitage’s upper arm, slim enough that he could encircle it entirely. 

Lines winged out from squeezed-shut eyes but Armitage opened them, blinking wetly when they were suddenly steered apart by their attendants, once again emerging from the preparation room. 

“We only have a few minutes,” the Priest announced, leading them towards the wide stairs that led up to the open hall. The doors that led outside were still open, men and women still coming in from the rain to follow them to the ceremonial room. “I will need to explain the change of ceremony.”

Armitage walked rigidly beside him, following like a man going to his grave. Ben frantically looked through the seated crowd for the heads of his mom and dad. They would be happy of the news even though the act of the ceremony would be awkward. 

It didn’t occur to him that he didn’t see any other redheads in the crowd. 

At the front of the room, altar having been lifted onto the raised dais, they stopped. The altar had already been prepared, white cloth embroidered with the intention to better highlight the blood when it was to be spilled. Now the attendants were hurrying to lay out a second white sheet, folded to make a pillow at one end and bringing a small wooden stool to the side, a vial of clear oil set on it.

“It has come to our attention that our preparations for this ceremony have been… incorrect,” the Priest began, standing in front of the altar, taking the attention away from the attendants and them. Ben finally spotted his mom and dad, sitting on the front-most bench. To his horror, and Armitage’s based on his arm tensing against his, every bench was full and more people were left to stand at the back. That was ten benches, long enough to seat roughly twenty people each. 

Armitage grabbed his hand but Ben tangled their fingers tight together.

Leia looked up sharply.

“To all our understanding, we’ve been under the belief that for the protection of our lands we need to sacrifice the lives of our loved ones. A virgin taken from each of our two fellow kingdoms and brought here. It has come to our attention that there was a misinterpretation. Life shall not be taken.” The Priest stopped to let the statement sink in. Hope slowly shifted over his parent’s grieving features. “Two lives shall be bonded.”

The storm cracked outside, thunder and lightning matching the Priest’s first two steps as he crossed over to behind the altar, one hand settling on his shoulder, the other on Armitage’s.

Ben met his mom’s eyes, her hand barely coming up in time to muffle her shock. 

The squeeze of the Priest’s hands should’ve set them into motion but Ben watched him walk away, joining his attendants at the side, leaving him and Armitage still joined at the hands.

Another rumble of thunder shook the stone walls of the temple. 

The Priest glared at them. Armitage jerked his head just enough to take the him out of his periphery but Ben moved their hands to Armitage’s hip, encouraging him closer to the altar. Not wide enough for the purposes they’d be using it for but they couldn’t be picky. They didn’t have the time for it.

“Please, we need to do this,” Ben encouraged into his ear only to be forced back when the attendants reappeared at their sides. He hadn’t noticed that he’d grown warmer, sweat from nerves dotting his skin, until a breeze replaced the gown that was being unfastened and removed. 

Armitage was stripped just as efficiently. His attendant sat him on the altar while the lady who undressed him pressed the vial into his hand. “If you want to keep talking you need to start multi-tasking. We’re running out of time,” she reminded.

“But what do I do-” Ben started to hiss after her but both attendants were hurrying off with their robes in their arms. Ben made a point of keeping his back to the audience, sitting on the altar, twisting his head to look at Armitage. “We need to do this.”

Armitage shook his head hard, gripping at the cloth covering the altar. His gaze landed on the crowd before snapping in the opposite direction.

Despite himself Ben looked towards his mom and dad, ready to apologize. He didn’t expect to see his dad motioning with his hand that he himself held the bottle in. The movements he made with his other hand were crude but familiar and Ben hated that he understood what he was implying. 

Uncorking the vial, spilling oil into his hand to wet his whole palm, he hastily stroked his length, spurring himself mentally with the fantasies that usually stirred him. He was no more ready or willing than Armitage but in a few seconds he was beginning to harden. He tried to be gentle in shoving Armitage to his back but knew he was unsuccessful when he thrust wet fingers into him.

He spread his fingers hastily, cringing when Armitage yelped and arched his back free from the altar. “I’m sorry,” he whispered before bracing himself over him, trying to guide himself in, nestled by palm and thumb, pushing his cock into Armitage alongside his fingers.

Armitage’s sob seemed louder than the thunder that continued outside, drumming out a slower and softer beat. 

The gaze that came from the direction of the Priest and attendants burned to the crown of his head. He could imagine their impatience and purposely looked away, finding his father’s gaze again. He wanted to cry when he saw his parents, both looking at him with sympathy, nodding at him to continue. All the other faces in the crowd were meaningless, even though he knew they watched with heated eyes and bated breath. 

They had barely begun and everyone was counting on them.

Cool air on his back, Armitage’s warmth pressed against his front, he withdrew his hand, trying to ease some of the pain. There was no comfort in this moment, none of the preparation that he should’ve taken allowed for. That much he knew from gossipy knights. “Relax,” Ben murmured, hitching his hips back a fraction before pushing in, a stilted movement that punched a whimper out of Armitage’s mouth. 

Forcing his lips together, silencing the whimpers that should’ve followed with the subsequent tentative thrusts, Armitage gathered his breath together before speaking. “Just get this over with.”

Their position wasn’t an easy one, which he realised belatedly had to do with one of his legs stretched out past Armitage’s leg. Knee stepping until he was bracketed by his thighs Ben steadied himself on both knees, rocking forward. Armitage was too tight to make the movement easy. Wincing slightly, jostling himself around more to draw more pained noises from both, he hesitated before guiding one of Armitage’s legs up to bend, foot planted on the flat surface. At the very least now they wouldn’t be falling off the narrow length. He felt a little bit of space make way to allow him to slide slightly further into Armitage. Tight as he was the heat surrounding him was far better than what he got from his hand. “Can I move more?” Ben asked. 

Nodding soundlessly Armitage gazed up unseeing, the stonework leading to a high ceiling rather than the second storey that was built around the rest of the temple. Two windows built overhead showed the storm, dark enough to be night even though it was midday.

There was really nothing special about the ceiling but Armitage preferred to look up to it rather than him. Moving his hand away from his thigh Ben cupped his cheek to ease his gaze towards him. “Am I that awful to look at?”

“Far from it.” In this act Armitage’s body gave little, though his gaze softened a fraction. He sighed, resisting the urge to look away again. “I barely came to accept that I was going to die today. Instead, now I’m up on display to complete strangers, giving up my virginity because some arrogant manic spirit is demanding retribution. We didn’t have a choice. No offence to you but I don’t want this.”

This attempt at conversation in the middle of sex sounded absurd but Ben didn’t stop talking or moving. “But now you can look to tomorrow. We both can. All of us have our whole lives now.”

Armitage seemed to sag, heavy on the altar. “For what worth?” 

“For… worth?” Ben nearly laughed, a smile half-forming. “Everyone will still have their homes. They will return to their families and loved ones. That is worth it, that’s important.”

That pale face turned as cold as the stones that built the temple, battered down before turning away. Ben was poised on the edge of fury, ice and fire warring within, but in an instant he remembered. 

He leaned in, bringing their faces together at the same time his own weight pushed further into Armitage. He choked on pain and surprise, trying to relieve the pressure by pushing him back, hands on his chest, but Ben latched onto one of his hands, his other lacing fingers through his hair. 

“For me.” Pressing his forehead against Armitage’s, oil almost gluing them together, he tangled their fingers together, tight to the point of wincing more but neither moved to pull their hands apart. “We’re still in this together.”

“Ben – puh-please.” Stumbling over the word with another push in Armitage tried to lever himself up to pull away.

Ben let him, if only to loosen his hand to stroke up his arm. Like it had downstairs some of the tension ebbed away. Reaching his shoulder Ben trailed his fingers down his chest, firm enough to try and channel that soothing touch through the rest of his body. “I know you don’t want this but the sooner this is over with the sooner I can make it up to you,” he murmured.

Armitage sank back down, nodding and biting his lip. 

Determined to stick to his word Ben worked himself to a steady pace, not as fast or deep as he wanted. Armitage made it hard to do that, not that the blame was all on him. They didn’t have enough time before he was forced to penetrate him. He continued stroking over Armitage’s torso, admiring the pale brown freckles that dotted his skin where his skin had darker freckles. Fingers skated to connect all of them, dipping down to his hip bone. 

Ben nibbled on the inside of his lip before dragging his thumb around Armitage’s cock. His hips jolted a little, dragging a groan from Armitage. Not enough oil or time would make it painful from that end but surely he could distract him from all of it?

Kissing Armitage’s cheekbone briefly he curled his fingers around all of him. There was still a trace amount of oil on his hand, not a lot, but it kept him from having an entirely dry grip before he was slowly pumping.

Gasping at the touch but knowing better this time not to move, into the cautious strokes or the slow thrusts that he had started, Ben watched a flush work over Hux, pink lighting upon his cheeks before spreading throughout his face and down his neck. The deep red was a fixture on his throat, unaffected by the heat and sweat that popped up. Ben wondered if he could lick it clean, dipped his head down to mouth gently at it. 

“No, Ben,” Armitage breathed, his lips too close to his ear. They grazed at the shell, sending a thrilling shock down his spine. 

“Doesn’t that feel good?” Ben asked against his throat, licking again. He couldn’t quite tell if the colour was any less than it was but it left a bitter taste on his tongue alongside salt. He could feel hot beads of liquid dripping along his fingers. “I think it does.”

Feeling bolder, feeling Armitage’s cock hard and leaking in his hand, he could move his fingers more smoothly, twisting at the head with each upstroke, grazing over the slit. Armitage bucked up into his hand in time with him thrusting deeper into him. That pink glow spread further from neck to chest with a loud cry, pained, ashamed but – aroused?

Armitage curled his arm up, wrapping around his shoulders from the side, the angle helping to hide his face from the crowd. It meant that it pulled himself upwards a little and with the way he was laving at his throat Armitage’s head was tight against his opposite shoulder. “Just do whatever you want,” he said into his ear, voice strainec with the refusal to cry.

Warm air and lips again at his ear Ben couldn’t help but groan, thrusting harder. Some thrusts drew hitched breath, other cries that Armitage tried to bite back. His hand between his shoulder blades had nails digging in, keeping him close even for the little space he drew back to get more thrusts in. Knees digging in for leverage, the cloth bunching underneath them, he thrust and stroked, feeling himself quicken the closer he got.

He found his release in seconds, red at his mouth and pink filling his vision. He felt boneless, relaxed, but kept stroking at the hard cock in his hand, twisting and stroking Armitage to completion. 

He lowered them gently, keeping his head up enough to obstruct everyone from seeing Armitage utterly exposed. Both bodies naked it was the little dignity he was trying to claim for himself when life allowed so little for him.

Ben at last nuzzled into the makeshift pillow, exhaustion seeping in. Had he clothes nearby he would’ve tried getting dressed but his clothes were still in the chamber and the attendants were too busy talking with several members of the audience to give them back their robes.

A hand on his shoulder, brushing along the side of his spine Armitage’s fingers didn’t reach, had him opening one eye to peer up. 

He thought it may have been significant that his mom’s smiling face was aglow by sunlight but his muddled brain wasn’t fully operational.

“Let’s get you home,” his dad said from the side. He had the common sense to have approached one of the attendants, the robe hanging from the arm he extended to him.

Ben nodded before sitting up. 

He stood only to catch Armitage turning from the corner of his eye. His pale back presented towards them.

A glance back towards the benches showed no one else was milling about. The crowd was heading to the main doors, a few stragglers talking to the Priest and the attendants, one who held a white robe.

His dad stepped back when he pushed past him. The people talking with the Priest balked when he soundlessly grabbed the robe from the attendant, tugging more violently than needed.

Back at the altar he positioned the robe as best he could over Armitage’s lying form. Ben took the robe from his dad, hastily dressing while coming around to face Armitage. Guiding him to sit with steady hands he crouched down enough to meet his eyes and loosen fists pressed to his legs. “Will you come home with me?”

Maybe he should’ve asked his parents to give him some privacy. They were still being watched, the Priest and his company scrutinizing them. Armitage kept his head bowed, eyeing Ben’s hand laid flat on his knee. 

Following his parents he walked side by side with Armitage, palms pressed and fingers linked together.


End file.
